Not Anymore
by trishbeanx7
Summary: Lily is at her 7th year at Hogwarts as Head Girl, but she'll have to spend most of it with that detestable James Potter. But she realises she feels different about him - is he really as bad as she thought? Rated M for language and sexual scenes later on.
1. Meeting

**A/N - this is my first ever chaptered James/Lily fanfic, and the first fanfic I'm posting to this website. I have a whole plethora of others that only close friends have seen, but I may post them in the future.**

**Please review this; it would really help me adapt future chapters as to what readers of this website like. And please be nice – it's only my first one!**

**There will be a few sexual scenes later on, hence the M rating (also for infrequent language).**

**Enjoy!**

I was determined to start this year anew. No more distractions. No more parties. No more lazy Lily. Only studying. After all, I _had _just been appointed Head Girl, and if I didn't set an example for NEWT studies, who will? Then again, I guess I could always rely on my fellow Head Boy to do the example setting, but as yet I had no idea who he was. I was wishing for someone smart, sensible and down to earth – Michael Dorson, maybe? He was ideal, but he _did _ have a rep for sleeping around a bit and I wasn't sure I wanted to spend my last year at Hogwarts trying to dodge attempts from Michael's part at asking me out. I mean, a lot of people had complimented me on my glistening green eyes or fiery red hair and I knew I was lusted after by a lot of boys, but Michael? Seriously? He wasn't even that good looking. No offence.

I guess the only person I really _didn't _want to be sharing the post of Head Student with was, of course, James Bloody Potter. That fucking toe rag hasn't left me alone since that time in Potions in first year when I commented on how good his was brewing, and immediately the smirking and snarky comments came raining down. I guess it finally gave him an excuse to talk to me, rather than keeping up with the sideways glances I'd been getting over the past half year. _"Oi Evans will you go out with me?" "Hey Evans! It's Hogsmede this weekend, wanna come?" "If you were a dementor, I'd become a criminal just to get your kiss Evans!" _Evans this, Evans that, Evans fucking everything. And the comments shouted down corridors in front of everyone weren't all, either.

As if that hadn't got me a rep for being the angry, dismissive girl who wouldn't go out with the hottest guy in the year, the parcels definitely did. Nearly every day I'd get a box brought to me by my owl Eloise, carrying elaborate gifts from Potter, evidently a means of utilising the copious amounts of money his pure blood, high status family owned, while also attempting to attract my attention towards him. Well that _definitely _ worked. It definitely brought to my attention that if a guy had resorted to buying me expensive gifts in order to glean some amount of affection out of me, I wasn't gonna respond and would, eventually, push him away even more. So after that first day when I ripped open the brown wrapping paper to reveal a crystal studded hair clip (which I kept, actually, as a way of showing that Potter that maybe I just wanted him for his money and nothing else), every time a box would land in front of me I'd give Eloise a small piece of bread (as a thanks for even bothering to bring me useless gifts) and send her straight back to the Owlery, instructing her to return the parcel to James Potter.

And it didn't even faze him.

He kept at it, gift after gift, comment after comment, bump after accidental-bump-in-the-shoulder, until I finally snapped near the end of our sixth year. After half a dozen years of enduring his constant tries of hitting on me, his sarcastic comments, his obvious attempts at trying to get me alone in abandoned classrooms, I decided to show him, once and for all, that I _did not like him._

Severus Snape, of course, my best friend, who had kept me sane through six years of madness from Bloody Potter, liked me. _Like _liked me. But I couldn't return the feelings and he knew that, having accepted the fact in fifth year that I simply didn't see him as more than a friend. I felt I ought to maybe like him slightly better, having been the first wizard I ever talked to. He had even asked me to the Yule Ball in fourth year and was going to say yes – break up my fickle relation with Adam McRawlins later, who was my actual date to the dance – but that Bloody Potter had to walk by in his swaggering gait and lopsided smile that absolutely infuriated me whenever he flashed it in my direction, and break the moment.

"Oh Snivelly. Oh poor, poor Snivellus, asking young Lily Evans here out to the ball, two days before the event? I think you'll find she's already got a date," he had smirked, winking at me. I desperately tried to convey, through my eyes, for him to _not tell _Severus about Adam.

And of course that git had to go and do just that. And he knew how much it was angering me. I guess I couldn't blame him – after all, four years since we joined Hogwarts and a lot of lustful comments from James later, he had at least hoped I would accept his request to the Ball. I, naturally, had declined him on the spot. I knew he was deeply hurt, but hadn't he seen it coming? Couldn't he see that the 'apple of his eye' (as he liked to call me) was never, _ever_, gonna go out with him? He was just too damn cocky and annoying and just generally a fucking bastard. Four years of constant humiliation in corridors and aggravating efforts in order to attract me had toughened me up and I knew I wouldn't be seen _dead _going to a dance with Potter, let alone even hold hands.

My silent pleas were ignored by Potter, who looked straight at poor, shaking Severus and said plainly: "She's going with Adam McRawlings, didn't you know? Or maybe she was too ashamed to tell you that she's going with the only guy in the whole year with a dick shorter than-"

Anyway, you can see how it went. Severus didn't speak to me until a week after the ball, saying he couldn't believe I'd sunk so low. I was offended, yes. Disheartened? No. Two weeks after that and we were talking like best friends again.

But whatever. Back to that time last year.

Oh and by the way, I don't really believe in luck you know.

A masquerade ball, very kindly organised by Melanie Bowes – my once best friend but now frenemy after a rather disastrous argument with her over a stupid boy by the name of Remus who was supposedly her boyfriend but had decided to spend Hogsmede with me instead (don't get me wrong – it was just as a friend, nothing more) – was to take place on the last day of June of our sixth year. And who was invited? The whole year. Every single sixth year student, whether we be Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or even Slytherin, each of us received a frilly blue invite at the end of May, containing details about the 'best dance' we will have ever been to. And even if half of Slytherin didn't turn up, there was still approximately a one in seventy five chance that I would _not_ end up dancing with a masked Potter.

And did I have any luck? Absolutely none at all. Of course, being me, I'm hardly at the receiving end of any helpful lucky occurrences.

I'll cut straight to it – we'd been holding hands, swaying to the soft song, blissfully oblivious as to who was our partner. I was actually really enjoying myself – his hard calloused hand stroking up and down my bare arms, the other one held firmly behind my back to hold me in place in front of him. We didn't even say a single word to eachother, the invisible sparks flying through us enough to convey the obvious chemistry and tension strung between the two of us. Our chests were crushed against eachothers, both of us trying to live in this moment as much as we could before having to un mask ourselves and go back to our significant others, who we had actually brought to the dance.

I don't even know how I managed to brainlessly ignore the shock of black hair sticking out behind his mask, the telltale Marauder's tattoo at the base of his thumb. How had I not known this was James? And then the song ended, and all the couples took off their masks, the boys kissed their partner's hand and returned to their dates. Except me and my partner. We were both too engrossed in our small piece of pleasurable heaven to even realise the lights go on, the music stop, and the room fall silent as over a hundred pairs of eyes focused on us. I kept staring straight into the depths of this most romantic boy's eyes, conveniently ignoring Zaria's calls of "Lily! Lily! Song's ended, babe. You can stop dancing with your guy now!"

Oh and by the way, I don't really believe in luck you know.

I eventually, reluctantly, tore myself from his grasp, making a mental note to find out later who he was and whether he was already spoken for, meaning to ask him out myself even if he didn't. I even leaned in, just then, to plant a small kiss on the side of his cheek. My heart was thudding in my ears, by breathing shallow, my –

And then my dream shattered. The mask came off, the glasses were put back on, the sarcastic smirk plastered back onto his stupid face.

"We were enjoying that rather too much, weren't we, Evans?" he winked, speaking loud enough to be heard across the quiet Great Hall.

I was stunned into silence. No way. No fucking _way._

Had I just had a _good_ time dancing with James Potter? And no _way_, out of so so many people, had he ended up being my partner for the final closing dance.

I was shocked, angry, and humiliated. He had known it was me, all along, and I had let my guard down. And now he knew how much I had actually savoured the dance with him, and had managed to last over five minutes without having wanted to hit that stupid grin off his face. And he was loving it. He had finally got through to the steely Lily Evans.

But what did he think? I was gonna give in now? After six whole years of defying his tries, I was just gonna walk straight into his open arms?

No way.

The anger and frustration built up inside me as I watched his grin grow wider and wider. He lifted his hand and ran it through his crazy hair. I tried to ignore the way his beautiful muscles bulged out from under his shirt. Taking up the last reserves of my humiliated strength, I raised my hand.

And slapped his irritating smile right off his face. His free hand flew to cover the burning, red skin my hand had left behind.

A few moments of silence ensued, after which I made to stalk right out of the Great Hall. But he grabbed my arm, crashing me back into him.

"Well, Evans, I can't just let you leave after such an... _intimate_ dance, now can I?" His smirk was back on his face, his eyes conveying nothing but humour and amusement. "Did you really think that slap would hurt? Nah, you didn't put enough into it. I can tell how much you enjoyed dancing with me. Wanna do it more often, eh?"

How dare he. He was asking me out in his stupid cryptic way in front of the entire year, and if I refused I'd be forever, irrevocably labelled as the snarky bitch who wouldn't give in to the guy who pined after her, just go out with him even once. And if I accepted? I'd be stuck in an excruciating relationship with the one guy I hated with all my heart.

So it was all I could do to not slap him again; instead, I simply lowered my voice and try to make it as clear as possible to everyone who had bothered to wait around and listen to another pointless fight between Potter and Evans: "I do not like you, James Potter. And no, I will _not_ go out with you."

He only laughed. That infuriated me more. "Of course you'll go out with me. One da– "

"I DON'T BLOODY LIKE YOU POTTER! WHEN WILL YOU GET THAT?"

At least that got the grin off his face. A rather awkward silence later, he just shrugged. And that's when my self-restraining strength finally gave in and my hand seemed to act of it's own accord, slapping him across the face again.

And then I stormed out.

But that was months ago. I'm here now, on the Express to Hogwarts, and determined to start this year fresh. Not many people seem to remember the incident from back in June – everyone I met on the platform greeted me in their usual way, congratulating me on my Head Girl badge. Zaria Glissade – my best friend – was the first to know, naturally. Having only received my badge a week ago, I decided to let her find out when I met her today.

She had freaked. In the nice way, obviously.

"No way! ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod Lily that's aweeeeeesome!" she had squealed, running up to me and giving me a high-ten in the air.

"How about you? Any badges?"

"Just some Prefect thing. Apparently I have to do nighttime patrols to make sure younger students aren't out of bed past 10. I mean, how _stupid_ is that? That's basically giving up precious sleeping time just to impress Professor Dumbledore on responsibilities and shit that I can take up, but I don't fricking want to!"

I could see where she was coming from. Being Head Girl meant attending various meetings and adjusting rules and giving out detentions, even if they were to my own friends. I tried to console Zaria –

"Yeah, but, I'm Head Girl which means I get to sort out patrol shifts, and you can always have shift at the same time as me!"

"Seriously! Oh my god thanks! Oh and Lily?" her face fell slightly.

"What?" I hoped it wasn't anything too serious.

"I um... heard that Potter has been given some Prefect job too so..."

UGH. That meant I'd have to work with him, too, sorting out shifts according to his timetable and giving him advice on how to be a better Prefect.

Or maybe I'd just let Head Boy do that. I dunno, at least him being Prefect wasn't as bad as sharing my post of Head Student.

But wait... "What was Dumbledore _thinking?_ Potter's got way too many detentions and his rep is awful, he never meets deadlines and is practically a model worst student!"

Zaria nodded her agreement. "I know right. But then again, he _did _get ten Outstandings and one Exceeds Expectations at OWLs, which, I'm afraid to say, is the same as you Lily."

Ugh. Trust Potter to prance around, being the arrogant git he is, but still fucking ace his exams and be appointed Prefect. All the teachers knew of his track record, but he was also so charming to his professors that they decided not to mind. A small rose gifted to Prof Thalia for Charms, a box of crystallised pineapple for Prof . Slughorn in Potions... the list went on. Nearly all the teachers were willing to overlook his detention record and award him the Outstanding he supposedly 'deserved'.

"Yeah... I guess. Well, on the plus side – I can give him detentions now!" and that definitely brightened the mood for both of us.

Potter had, previously, tried to hit on Zaria as well. But being a loyal and perceptive friend to me, she had politely declined, pledging her alliance to my anti-Potter way of life.

Oh, and about Severus. Since the beginning of last year, when that awful Tom Riddle boy started recruiting 'followers', me and him haven't really been speaking much. Especially since he 'accidentally' called me a mudblood last November. For nearly a year now, only small glances and acknowledging glances have been exchanged between the two of us. I miss it. I really do. The days when we were the best of friends and no dark forces were puppeteering him. But now he's been drawn into the shallow, cruel ways of so called 'Death Eaters' and I know there's no going back. I haven't really talked to him today – I only noticed his long greasy black hair disappearing into the Slytherin end of the train when I arrived at the platform. I don't think he even knows I'm Head Girl.

But anyway.

Me and Zaria happily walked through the cramped but plush corridor of the Hogwarts Express. In our compartment (conveniently chosen to be situated next to the Prefects one so that me and Zaria could easily leave whenever we were required) we met up with Camille Abbott, Joe Finnigan, Frank Longbottom, Alice Huntington, Olivia and Sam Creevey (siblings, not married, don't worry), Elena Prewett... the list went on. My entire group of friends (accumulated over six years at this school) were already seated in the magically enlarged train compartment. Our magic was good enough now that even placing a discreet enlargement charm on an entire compartment seemed like child's play.

We exchanged stories about our summer holidays (including ones about Stinking Sap, rogue Bludgers, exploding fireplaces and flying Sneakoscopes) as the train departed from the station at exactly 11 o clock. Cold, grey towns blended into scenic lush green countryside as we picked up speed and made our way towards Hogwarts. A scrawny young boy from third year came round about half an hour into the journey with a note, explaining that all Prefects and Head Boy and Girl needed to meet in the compartment by the end of the train (which happened to be the next one down from us).

A quick change into our school robes later, me and Zaria, along with Frank (who had pleasantly surprised us with his Prefect post, too) positioned our badges proudly on the front of our robes and made our way over to the next compartment.

Oh and by the way, I don't really believe in luck you know.

Head high and full of confidence, I entered the room with Zaria and Frank following close behind. Already seated were three Prefects each from Hufflepuff, Slytherin and Ravenclaw. I took my seat next to a rather kind Prefect from Hufflepuff, by the name of Selena Chandler. She smiled politely at me, unsure of how to act in front of my newly appointed Head Girl status. I merely nodded, turning back to excitedly discuss with Zaria what this meeting could be about. Prof McGonagall, Dumbledore's assistant Headteacher, was seated at the head of the table. I've never seen her aboard the Hogwarts Express before. Maybe it's just the Prefects and Head Students that ever see her for a meeting before she goes back to her private compartment or whatever. Actually, I've never really thought about how any of the teachers get to school. Strange.

The meeting had been planned for 11:45, but it was almost 12 and there was still no sign of Head Boy. I knew this by having observed everybody's robe lapels as they filed quietly into the room. For each one, either a shot of disappointment or a surge of relief had coursed through me as I realised none of them would be sharing the post with me. A nervous knot twisted into my stomach as the room gradually grew quieter, the sound of McGonagall's impatiently tapping shoe loudly resonating through the compartment.

"Surely this boy should have more sense than to turn up late for his first meeting," she said, irritated.

And man, was she right. I felt ready to explode with apprehension, having realised that there could only be one person in the entire school who would openly disregard any time limits set on him despite having been appointed the most prestigious position any student could wish to have in the school. And I seriously thought I was about to vomit, when he sauntered in.

James Bloody Potter.

"Ah, sorry, Professor. Seemed to have lost my way slightly. A long way to this end of the train you know..."

McGonagall was not impressed.

It was all I could do not to scream in frustration at that very moment. I wanted to hit something. I wanted to strangle someone. I was even ready to give up my position as Head Girl.

Why?

Because as Potter had strolled in (over twenty minutes late, may I add) with Remus, I noticed a gleaming badge attached to the front of his robes. Remus had one, too. But I knew, instantly, that my hopes had been dashed. Remus was ideal: smart, sensible, down to earth. But for some unfathomable reason, Dumbdore had appointed him Prefect, and James was now –

"The Head Boy, Mr Potter, is required to arrive on time to all meetings and appointments. Unfortunately, I do not possess the power to take away this position of responsibility you have been assigned, but if I had, you most certainly would be the first I would consider for redundancy." McGonagall's voice rang out loud and clear, but Potter didn't falter.

And odd feeling was boiling up inside me. Nausea, combined with anger, annoyance, and a whole lot of chagrin did _not_ make for a happy Lily. I felt like crying. I seriously did. How was this fair? What was Dumbledore playing at? Breaking any restrain my mind had over my mouth up till this current moment, I burst out with:

"Hey Potter! Shouldn't you be swapping badges with Remus?"

His head whipped round to face me, genuine surprise on his face.

"You too, Evans? Head Girl? That. Is. Awesome." His grin stretched across his face, his eyes lighting up like a young boy who's just discovered a secret stash of chocolate.

I gave him the dirtiest look I could muster. Real, real, dirty. Have I mentioned before how much I hate him?

"Yes, Potter, me too. And now kindly swap your badge with – "

"Actually, Evans, I think you'll find this badge is mine and – "

"Stop this nattering! Potter, come up and sit here," McGonagall commanded. The seat she was pointing to was directly infront of me, across the table. Remus sat next to him, an apologetic expression on his face as he looked at me sympathetically. Zaria nudged me and gave me the same look.

At least _some_ people understood. A horrible knot had settled in my stomach at the prospect of spending – oh god – a _whole year_ working cooperatively with bloody Potter. I was seriously contemplating suicide at this moment.

Through the entire meeting, I avoided every move on Potter's part. On a side note, he seemed to have forgotten the fiasco at the dance last year. Atleast he wasn't insulting me with that anymore (yes, throughout the last month of sixth year I'd had countless letters posted to my dorm door with stupid puns about dancing and the two of us).

I tried absolutely everything in order to avoid eye contact (hell, _any _contact) with Potter. I focused on every grain of wood in the table. On the intricate pattern embroidered into the curtains. On every raindrop sliding down the window, mentally racing different ones. I absent-mindedly made notes on inconsequential (or so I thought) things McGonagall was saying. I didn't absorb most of the duties she said I'd have to do, only realising them once the meeting had ended and we were free to go (and I was free from Potter's infuriating presence).

"Sucks, doesn't it?"

I didn't even notice Zaria was speaking.

"Lily?"

"Yeah, sorry?" I looked up from my notebook.

"It sucks, what she said about the Head Students' duties, right?"

"Er yeah, um..."

At that point, Potter brushed passed me, accidentally-on-purpose hitting my shoulder.

"Hey, Evans. Looking forward to the best year of your life?" he had the cheek to wink at me again. I opened the door to my compartment, ready to walk in, but he grabbed my arm.

I rolled my eyes, my teeth clenching, mentally making a note to learn zen this year and find my 'inner peace' so as to not be affected by Potter anymore.

"We're gonna have so much fun you know..." with a loud laugh, he rushed away with Sirius, back to his compartment further down the train.

God, I hated him.

Just as I was about to close the sliding door behind me, I heard Potter shout out.

"Hey, Evans?"

Mentally reprimanding myself for bothering to stick my head back out to listen to him, I said:

"What now?"

Then his tone turned serious. "Congratulations, by the way. For, you know, Head Girl," he said sincerely. I was surprised. I hardly ever saw this side of him. I was taken aback, not fully aware of what I said next.

"You too, Potter." He looked as if he'd just won the wizarding lottery. Lily Potter had actually said something nice to him! I couldn't help but laugh as well, but quickly cut it short. I wasn't gonna laugh at a shared thing with Potter. No way. He turned and ducked back into his room, and I stepped back into mine.

"How'd it go?" Alice asked, stroking Frank's arm lovingly as he sat back down. "You know, I'm so, so proud of you darling." They leaned in for a kiss, and I turned my attention to Elena, who was asking to see my notes. I handed them over.

I watched with growing unease as her eyes widened. Every one of my friends (hell, everyone in the whole school) knew of my loathing of Potter.

"Um, Lily? You do realise what McGonagall's said you guys have got to do?"

I snatched the diary from her hands and read my notes back to myself.

_Night patrols 9-12 head+head, prfcts other flrs._

_Prfct advice sessions_

_Meet w dumbledore every last day of month_

_Private discussion meetings, head+head, once month_

Private discussion meetings. Just me and Potter. Once a month, meaning at least 10 times this year (not including December, hopefully, for Christmas). And night patrols? Together?

How bloody long was I gonna have to spend with him this year?

Fuck.

**A/N**

**sorry for no Sirius in this chapter. I just had to get the whole Lily-is-annoyed-at-James stuff. More Sirius in the next one!**

**reviews are a girl's best friend**

**(and encourage them to write more chapters)**

**:)**

**A/N UPDATE 17th MAY: I'm so so sorry I haven't updated yet, but thankyou to all the awesome people out there who've already put my story on the alert thingy! my temporary (and extremely annoying) absence is due to the fact i've got important-for-life GCSE exams next week, then a Duke of Edinburgh expedition next weekend (these two things will make sense to people from UK) so I don't actually have much time to write :( **

**but I promise you (I won't go too far and make the Vow but anyway) the next chapter will be longer and better!**


	2. Late

**A/N not many readers yet, but thankyou so much to all of those who've already added this to their alert thingy **

**Also, for James, think Aaron Johnson and for Lily think Karen Gillan .**

**Oh and I post more fics on my blog acciobeautifulhorcruxes on tumblr too so it'd be awesome if you guys could follow me!**

**Enjoy! **

The sight of the colossal castle unfurling from behind the screen of vast, snow-topped mountains was always a calming sight for me, every year, and it did well to soothe my agitated nerves following the disastrous meeting with McGonagall today. I was doing absolutely everything mentally possible to avoid thinking about Potter, and my duties with him. And of course, when you try not to think about something, what happens?

You think about it, naturally. I absent-mindedly pulled my trunk off the racks above my head, snapped open the compartment door and made my way out of the train, my group of friends following close behind. They did look slightly worried – I hadn't said a single thing since coming back from the meeting, and five hours of silence was a long, long time (not so much for me, actually, seeing as if I had my way I'd happily spend an entire day in the library just reading, without talking to a single soul). I guess they hadn't wanted to agitate me further after the meeting, so none of the conversations had been directed straight at me: I was free to join in if I wanted, but I had preferred to keep to myself in an attempt to quietly squash out the bubble of nausea that had, finally, begun to subside.

It could be _that _hard, could it? I mean, it wasn't as if Potter was too bad...

Woah. Woah, I seriously did _not_ just say that. Who was I kidding? Potter was a fucking nightmare!

But still, the way he'd genuinely congratulated me...

Yeah, but that was just his nicer side that came out like once in a year (on the last day of the school year, when he knew he wouldn't be able to see me for about 2 months and would get all serious relationship-y and tell me how much he sincerely loved me). So I guess he'd already used up that small ray of sunshine, and there would be no more of this genuinely nice side of Potter for the rest of the year.

I wish he was like that more often. Maybe it'd make me like him more.

Ah well, I'd just have to make do, right? Plus, being Head Girl would give me a massive boost when picking career options after NEWTs, so I was determined to be the best Head Girl there ever was, not letting a measly boy get in my way.

Stepping out onto the platform, the freezing autumn afternoon wind whipped my hair around my face. I could make out mini fog clouds infront of everyone's faces as they breathed out into the icy air. Behind the impenetrable curtain of trees directly to our right (through which we would promptly be travelling in our horseless, self-driven carriages), the majestic silhouette of Hogwarts castle stood out proudly in the darkening misty night. My heart leapt at the thought of revisiting, after nearly two months, the hearty fires lighting up the Common Room, spreading their warmth to old and new Gryffindors alike. The Great Hall, with its magical floating candles and bewitched ceiling. The various classrooms, lined with a plethora of magical objects – the potions ingredients, the inanimate cushions, the teacups. And of course, the library, which always made me feel at home in all its bookish, comfortable glory.

A haggle of first years made their nervous way over to the lake, which they'd be crossing in small boats to get to the castle. I remember my first day here, how I'd been too scared to get onto a boat (following a rather unfavourable turn of events two years ago at a friend's sailing birthday party), and the only person who had bothered to help me on was, I realised later, James Potter. I don't remember much of the actual ride, apart from having been very conscious of his little eleven year old hands resting on my waist, trying to stop my shaking self from falling off.

I've always wondered why we have to travel on boats in our first year. What if the giant squid ate one of us?

But whatever. I boarded the carriage, along with Zaria, Frank, Alice, Elena, Georgie, Maybelline and Olivia. The night was dark but starless, a lonely moon swimming aimlessly in the black ocean. It wasn't too bright around us either – a few lanterns the only source of light. As we set off, the rusting wheels scraping along the rock-strewn ground, I heard a burst of laughter.

Turning back, I saw Potter and Sirius behind Remus – who was desperately trying to control them. In the dim yellow light I could just about make out, twenty feet back, that while Potter was trying to charm the carriage into a giant purple Pygmy Puff, Sirius was using the Accio charm to – believe it or not – charm a group of girls around him to zoom closer, willing or not. Their cries of distress mingled with the guffaw of Potter, ringing out loud and clear.

It was quite funny, actually. And I would have laughed, had the centre of attention not been Potter and his friends. Fortunately, his spell didn't seem to be working as well as he hoped, and the carriage was merely sprouting fuzzy purple arms out its side. I gleaned some manner of satisfaction in that his silly antics weren't working.

I set my forehead into an angry frown and called out. "Oi Potter! What dyou think you're doing?"

His head whipped round to face me, not surprised that the only time I ever bothered to willingly talk to him, my voice was heavy with chagrin.

He gave me his best deadpan face.

"Turning this carriage into a Pygmy Puff, Evans. Really, you'd think, having reached 7th year, you would at least be able to tell the difference between a mode of transport and a fluffy – "

"Whatever, Potter. I don't care about your fucking rubbish excuses. You _know _we've got to get to school in time especially on the first day!" Looking around, I could see that most of the students spilling out the train had already hitched a ride through the forest, leaving only us, the marauders and some other fourth years hanging around. We had been the last to exit the carriage, as seventh years all had an unspoken sense of responsibility to get the younger years out. Turning back, I saw a group of carriages driving themselves through the fog and into the forest. It looked strangely like something out of a horror movie, dunno why.

"And what? I'm head boy now, doesn't that mean I can do fuck all I want?" he raised an eyebrow as I turned back to the sound of his voice. His forehead crinkled to accommodate, the rest of his features spreading out. I knew that look all too well – numerous accounts in the corridors and common room had led me to recognise that look anywhere. He was teasing me.

I stepped down out of the carriage, which promptly resumed it's journey towards Hogwarts. I turned back, surprised that it knew exactly when to start moving. But shouldn't it wait for me? My friends gave me warning looks; Zaria mouthed something at me that was lost behind the curtain of trees. The carriage was gone so fast! I stared after them for a bit, then I turned round to face the Marauders again.

"No, not _everything,_ Potter. You can't do everything you want."

"Does that still mean I can do you?" he winked, in his stupid indicative manner.

I sighed. Was he ever gonna grow up? I tried to avoid his stupid wonky smile and looked behind him, to where the few girls that had managed to – literally – be drawn into Sirius' trap hurried away, adjusting their robes back into an acceptable fashion. Some of them looked annoyed, but most of them felt rather pleased to have been in such close contact with the notoriously second hottest guy in the school. Sirius re-buttoned the top half of his shirt, letting the bottom hang out lazily.

He called out something to Pettigrew, who was meekly sitting at the very edge of their carriage, biting his nails. I struggled to make out what he said, however. I was too fixated on the way Potter's mouth was now curved into a suggestive smile. His eyes glinted with mischief, sending, as clichéd as it sounds, a shiver down my spine. His eyebrow, still raised, combined with his lips that –

_Snap out of it Lily!_ I mentally shook myself. What was I doing, staring at Potter so hard?

"No, Potter. Grow up." I put on my most authoritative voice. If he was allowed to do and say 'fuck all' he wanted, wasn't I? "If you want this year to go smoothly, without irritating me out of my mind as has been the case for the past few years at school, then you need to become waaay more mature and get it into your head that I'm not in this for - "

He cut me off: "listen, Evans. I want this year to go subliiiimely, too" he said "But my idea of a good year is one where _you_," he indicated me by re-raising his eyebrow. I couldn't help but map out all his facial features again. God, I loved that gesture.

_What? _ No, wait. I didn't say that.

"... get with _me, _finally, and accept that I'm the 'one for you' or 'mr perfect' or whatthefuckever it is that you girls call your 'dream guy'" he finished by spreading his arms to his side, in a motion that I was unsure as to how to interpret.

_But he totally isn't my dream guy_ I thought to myself, raking my eyes over his chest as it made his shirt strain against the muscle. I followed the muscle in his neck, standing out as he raised his head higher. What did he think, I was gonna hug him?

Maybe I was.

But then he let his arms drop to his side and shrugged. The light was practically non existent now – the fourth years' last carriage disappeared behind me, taking with it the last of the lanterns. The Express had also departed, back to it's resting place in London, where it would depart from when the Christmas holidays started. The station lights had been automatically switched off, as no one was expected to remain this long at the station (looking at my watch, I realised nearly an hour had passed since getting off the train. What with guiding first years around as Head Girl and arguing with Potter, I had lost track of time).

_Now look what you've done_ I thought to had it got to the point that it was now only the Marauders and Lily Evans left? I wouldn't be caught dead in any act against the rules with them, which included being late.

With a shot of dread, I realised I'd have to share the final remaining carriage with them. Remus, Pettigrew and Sirius were already seated, playing with a small two-way mirror. Potter was leaning against the wooden side, awaiting my response. Unwittingly, I had moved closer as the light retreated, now only about five feet from him.

Another deep sigh later, I found my voice weary and condescending. "Oh poor you, Potter. You live in this fantasy world don't you? Where the grass is green and the sun shines and you've got your little 'ruby jewel' aka me, next to you. Did you think, after six years of positively _harassing _me, that I would actually start to _like _ you? No way. No way at _all_, Potter. Try harder, I guess. Or don't," I shrugged, not wanting to lead him on.

He looked at me expressionlessly, searching my eyes for something. I looked away, up at the rest of the guys who were still engrossed in that little mirror. Remus and Sirius were both leaning away from eachother, talking animatedly into the glass rather than at themselves. Pettigrew sat rather awkwardly on the other side, shiftily looking this way and that.

Potter stopped leaning on the wood and stood up right, a grin lighting up his face. His perfect white teeth shone through, even in the darkness.

"What's s-so funny?" I realised I was actually shivering of cold. In my annoyance, I hadn't realised how much the temperature had dropped in the early September air, and my robes over a simple shirt and jeans definitely weren't keeping me warm enough. It was weird, being this cold with an absence of a breeze. I rubbed my hands over each opposite arm, crossed over my chest. Potter unknowingly mirrored my actions, before peering into the darkness behind me and coming to the realisation that I didn't have a ride.

"Oh, nothing. Not much, anyway. Nothing you need to worry about!" he said, as an inadequate explanation as to why he was suddenly so happy.

"Well s-stop it then. It's c-creepy." My teeth chattered, betraying my vulnerable position. He immediately closed the small gap between us, rather indiscreetly throwing his arm over my shoulder.

My oestrogen went wild. I'd never been so close to Potter and I was so intimately aware of his hand over my arm, his thumb imperceptibly brushing the side of my breast. I should have been disgusted. I really should have. I should have pushed him away.

But it actually felt..._ nice. _

Maybe.

Actually no.

Ugh whatever.

"Ah, Evans. Think we should leave now?" he said, concerned for me and oblivious to the effect his proximity was having on my hormones. He smelt so... godly,and so much of _man _that I couldn't handle it. I kept my arms drawn around my chest, unsure of where to place them seeing as he was so close to me, and not wanting to put them around his waist because – let's face it – I didn't want him to 'win'.

It had always been about his ego. In the end, the past six years had been about my not surrendering to his constant provocations; at first, it was merely a matter of extreme dislike and ire towards him. Then later, I decided that it wasn't he wasn't as bad as I thought, and it was basically not letting him ever get the satisfaction of having won me over.

And hell, as long as I was concerned, he was _never _gonna get it.

"Sure," was all I managed to get out in the frosty, September, 8pm-and-already-very-late air that seemed to be constricting my lungs of oxygen.

That, combined with the breathless feeling of being in such close contact with the most attractive smelling guy I've ever been near, meant that my usually extensive vocabulary was now severely restricted and I actually couldn't be bothered to say anything more edgy to him.

He quickly manoeuvred us towards the carriage, upon which Sirius and Remus immediately stopped talking, looking at the two of us huddled together with expressions of amusement and bewilderment.

We sat down opposite the other three, Potter's arm still around me. Remus was the first to speak after a short silence (in which Potter was exchanging a series of glances with Sirius, the kind me and Zaria and all other best friends shared. The kind that said a lot without actually saying anything, and of course anyone unaccustomed to any best friends' ways felt totally out of place).

"So um, Lily. Hey! How come you didn't go with the rest of your friends?"

The final carriage with the five of us trundled off into the darkness. It was so pitch black that I couldn't even make out Remus, Sirius and Pettigrew, who were sitting less than three feet infront of me. The trees The only thing my senses were caring to register was the feel of Potter's body pressed up against mine, and my breath coming out shallow as I felt my stomach stirring with... not nausea, no, but something else. Something I'd only felt in a very diluted form with other boys I'd been out with in the past. Sure, I'd known Potter to be that toe-rag git, but I'd never really appreciated that he might just be... _good. _Like, sincerely a good person?

_Lily, stop it._

I vaguely remembered Remus having asked me a question about five seconds earlier.

"W-what? Sorry?"

I looked up, leaning away from Potter slightly and making to get out of his tight grip around me. He felt my discomfort, and after an initial few seconds of battling with his own will (not wanting to let go of my body now that he'd finally come so close in seven years, and not wanting to annoy me) he finally slackened his grip the tiniest fraction, enabling me to shift a few millimetres away from him.

"Oh nothing. I was just wondering, how come you're here with us?"

By now, we were so deep into the forest that I could barely see my own feet on the floor of the carriage. A winding path had been cleared out through the middle of the clump of trees for the carriages, just wide enough for the trees not to touch us but narrow enough that you constantly felt like the few trees with actual magical abilities (following the disaster of Henry the Hilarious back in 1876, in which he had accidentally bewitched select few trees with powers resembling our own human magical ones) were conducting a constant scrutiny of the passengers passing through their realm.

"I um... I... don't kn-know," I shivered again, not trusting myself to make up any excuse what with the cold and the _Potter _next to me, severely affecting my usually sharp brain power. I was glad none of the other boys could see my facial expression, and the effect Potter was having on me.

Before I could get over the heady smell of _boy_ (Merlin, what cologne did he use?) he, as usual, recovered from being next to me quicker than I did to him (we were having an equal measure of effect on eachother) and told them.

"Her entire _posse _of friends – " (he said the word like it was an object of ire to him. and I guess it was – it was always my friends that had prevented him from getting close to me, and it was always them who had maintained my own first impression of Potter: no matter how many times I tried to look at him from a different angle and mentioned this to them, they'd bring me back to Lily-hates-James-Potter-ville.) "- took off without her while she was rather kindly arguing with me on different motives to convert a carriage into a Pygmy Puff."

This, of course was not true. Well, not the end of it anyway. I take myself to be a very good psychoanalyst in many occasions, and I pride myself on being able to discern emotions emanating off people very accurately, as was the case today. From the spongy silence surrounding the five of us, I knew Remus was still unsatisfied with the answer – Lily Evans would _never, _not in any casual situation, speak willingly to Potter, let alone let him _drape his arm around her._

I realised this, and shuffled harder under his grip, wanting to escape from his arms and shift up the other end of the carriage seats.

A silent struggle ensued, with me wriggling my shoulders as he continually tightened his right arm around my shoulder. None of the others noticed, I don't think, and after a while I gave up. Not without the final word, though. I made sure to give him a hard-hitting blow on his chest with my right fist, as 'punishment' for not letting me go.

And the worst thing? None of us meant it. It was all in good nature, and that had _never _happened between us.

I gave in to his persistent attempts and scooted back next to him. His arm again brushed over my right breast, sending electric shocks through my abdomen. I didn't know if he was doing it by accident, due to the rocking nature of the flimsy carriage, or on purpose. Or maybe accidentally-on-purpose, trying to mask his apparent interest in my chest as a side-effect of the swaying carriage.

But whatever, I wasn't complaining.

Merlin, what was wrong with me?

I could feel his bodily heat emanating and filling the tiny gap I had purposefully left between us. I unconsciously crossed my right hand across my body and placed it on his hard chest.

Sirius spoke.

"Hey James, what dyou say for Bethany Kilton tonight?" a playful tone was in his voice, and I'm sure his eyes would have been glinting.

What did he mean? Say_what _for Bethany tonight? I knew what Sirius was capable of, but what immediately sprang to my mind when he said that was some sort of inacceptable threesome in the Gryffindor common room.

Yuck.

"Sorry, Sirius, but say _what_ exactly for Bethany?" I inquired, concerned not to let this imaginary situation of mine to become a reality.

James' hand tightened around my arm. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"I, uh... no, Sirius. Not tod-... not e- just whatever. No." he cleared his throat again, and I was certain he was hiding something.

"James... aw come on mate!"

"Excuse me! What dyou guys plan to – "

Remus cut over me. "Look, Lily. It's nothing, okay? These guys just stalk girls every night, memorising their routines or whatever, but trust me, they've never _actually_ done anything. Really."

Because it was Remus, I believed him (albeit rather indignantly).

Sirius made a scoffing noise. "Spoilsport."

I shook my head, accidentally brushing my hair across James' bare arm, who shivered in response.

The trees cleared, and now the colossal castle almost completely filled my view. The black towers and turrets and bridges, all silhouetted against the orangey-blue sky. Hundreds of arched windows all looked out from the stone walls, like multiple eyes of a cat. The small hill Hogwarts was perched on ran down into the glassy obsidian lake, tiny waves breaking over the surface as all manner of magical creatures currently residing in there came up for desperately needed air. The lake stretched out for miles and miles behind the castle, ending god knows where. The mountains lining the lake stood sentinel; a means of defence against any foreign attempted attack, and also to serve as a barrier between the Muggle world and ours.

There was still about a mile to go yet, and I could finally make out about ten other carriages that were late, like us, barely a hundred metres in front of us. I breathed a small sigh of relief – we weren't the only late ones.

A whisper of a breeze flew by me, icy and chilling from the lake. I didn't shiver; James' warmth balancing out the negative feedback in my body. I did, however, lean further into him, bringing my right arm down from his chest to his left thigh.

In doing so, I unwittingly brushed over the belt of his jeans, and the hardness beneath. A spark flew through my arm, and James involuntarily jerked backwards in his seat. I retracted my arm swiftly, shifting uncomfortably next to him.

Shit. Had I really just _felt James Potter's boner_, a result of my proximity to him? A feeling of nausea shot through me, but I was also kinda just surprised that I really had this kind of effect on him. He cleared his throat quietly, and took his arm off my shoulder and back into his own space (why did my unconscious mind secretly want that arm back?). I moved an inch away from him, unsure as to what to say. Maybe it was best to stay quiet. I looked over at him, more easily visible in the light radiating from Hogwarts. His chest was heaving – breathing hard, he was trying to control his raging hormones. I realised I was mirroring him, trying my best not to do what my estrogen was desperately telling me to. His eyes looked darker than ever, a manic glint in them. His hair was mussed up as a result of the wind, and he was trying to avoid looking at me. Well that was fine with me – I didn't want him to see me blushing and uncomfortable.

What was wrong with me? It wasn't like I'd never been in this position before. Hell, I'd even given a blow job to someone last year (I won't tell you who because I know we were both drunk and none of us even liked the other). But this was different. In the cool night air and magical atmosphere, this was way more intimate and _real._ James Potter was actually affected in this way by me, and I'd never thought of it like that. I always just thought I was some kinda play toy for him to feed his ego, but he actually _wanted_ me. I'd seen him this close with other girls, but I don't think I've ever heard of him sleeping with anyone else.

Hell, was Potter still a virgin?

I internally laughed. No way! But then again, maybe that was a good thing...

Why?

_why is that a good thing, Lily?_

Because you want to be the first one he –

_No I don't! I don't even like hi – _

Actually, yes you do.

_I don't. _I replied firmly to the voice in my head. Six years of constantly rejecting and pushing him away, and now I was just gonna give in because he was getting aroused next to me?

My thoughts were immediately shut up when he turned round to look at me. We were almost at the castle. There was urgency in his eyes that I could see, but it was totally masked over with lust and angst. He was trying so hard not to show how much I had an effect on him, but was failing miserably. He was sucha gone case.

He opened his mouth to say something, a desperate look in his eyes. His breath was still coming fast, floating onto my face. I kept my eyes fixed on him, trying to deduce exactly what was going on inside his crazy head. His lips were parted and his cheeks were flustered.

You know how when you're not supposed to look at something, but you always end up looking anyway?

My eyes kept flicking down, trying to stay focused on his face, but I wasn't doing so well at that. I saw it again, a large mound, and my heart literally jumped into my throat as my stomach clenched wildly.

I looked back up at him, trying to control myself, but when my eyes inevitably stole a glance again, I realised my hard breathing was now matching his and both of us were flustered.

As the carriage stopped, he shut his mouth again, the words lost in the empty air. He decided not to say what he was going to, and instead rushed out of the carriage first past Remus and Sirius, who both looked between me and him confusedly.

"James!" the word burst out of my mouth as I watched his jet black hair receding towards the castle doors. The group of first years from the lake were anxiously crowding around McGonagall and shifted away hastily as he stormed past them.

Sirius turned to me.

"What the fuck was that about?"

I stared at him, at a loss for words. I shook my head, shrugging my shoulders and trying to avoid looking at Remus, who I'm sure would have worked _something_ out by now.

"I- um, don't know," I managed. I too, stood up and quickly descended the carriage steps. I had to talk to him, now. How could he just walk off?

The large oak doors opened and closed behind James, and I ran towards them. The first years pointed as their new Head Girl ran past. I looked back and saw Sirius staring at me intently, trying to deduce what had just happened. Remus and Pettigrew were leading any reckless fourth years away from the forest and back towards the castle.

I turned back and ran full speed towards the doors, halting in front of them. The splintery, engraved dark wood gleamed proudly in the overhead floating lights. It was slightly ajar, and I pulled it open slightly, just enough for me to slip in.

The stone Entrance Hall was cold and hard, the tiny fires in the lamp holders hardly providing any comfort to me. Straight ahead of me, about twenty feet infront, were the wide open doors to the Great Hall, where numerous students were all chatting loudly and laughing and recounting stories of their holidays. The bright lamps and candles and even the ghosts bobbing up and down looked much more inviting than the bleak hall I was standing in at the moment, all alone. To the left, stairs led up to the west side of the castle. On my right, the Grand Staircase was nearly visible, just round the corner, leading to all the main dormitories and classrooms.

I saw a shock of black hair disappearing up the last step, behind the jutting out wall.

My heart thumped. I ran after him.

What exactly did I intend to say?

**A/N**

**hope you likey! This was written totally off the top of my head and I'm SO SO sorry it took like 3 weeks! I've got exams now so chapter 3 might be up in about the same amount of time :(**

**reviews are a girl's best friend! (and I'll totally love you forever if you do) :)**


End file.
